Down by the Riverside
by howzat
Summary: Sequel to Lifeline. Spurling seeks a nasty revenge on DiNozzo and Gibbs for his arrest and both men must trust each other to survive, each in their different ways. I do not own the NCIS characters, I only play with them.
1. Chapter 1

Tony DiNozzo swung into the bullpen, his grin wide enough to bridge the Potomac. Even Gibbs, right behind him, looked pleased for once. They wore suits and ties too hot for the sweltering heatwave oppressing the east coast, but it was in a good cause. Today had been the day of a long-awaited trial verdict.

"So?" Kate prompted, her face alight with expectation.

"Twenty years non-parole, Katie, both of them, for the assault and attempted murder of a Federal agent", DiNozzo all but crowed.

"Yes!!!" McGee pumped the air with his fist. Out of character for her, Kate gave him a high five.

"Oh, my, Jethro, that IS good news", Ducky said, coming into the bullpen in time to hear what DiNozzo said. "Go ahead and celebrate, Tony, you've earned the right, my boy".

"How did they take it?" Kate asked, putting down the phone she'd picked up to relay the news to Abby. The whole team had been hanging on the outcome of this trial.

"About how you'd expect", DiNozzo said. "Spurling didn't say a thing, but Bradshaw sure did. Tried to take the marshals down when they came to cuff him".

"Wow, Tony", Abby bounced around the partition and enveloped DiNozzo in a hug that nearly knocked him off his feet," Your name will soooo be mud with Baker".

"Yeah, Abs", Tony said, regaining his balance and returning the hug, "it occurred to me". Abby's eyes at once grew troubled.

"Not only to you, DiNozzo", Gibbs said, going around behind his desk and putting his Sig in its drawer. "I'm putting a 24-hour watch on you for the next couple of days. Baker won't take this lightly".

Baker. DiNozzo hated the name. The man who controlled the drug trade in most of Washington DC and large parts of Maryland and Virginia. The man responsible for the deaths of two NCIS agents in the past year, one of them his close friend Pete Fielding. The trial today had put away two of his enforcers who between them had all but killed Tony the previous autumn. Gibbs and the others had only just found him in time.

Spurling and Bradshaw - DiNozzo thought of them as the Accountant and the Hulk. Bradshaw was a steroid-raddled thug whose size and strength made him a handy enforcer as long as someone else did the thinking. A dime-a-dozen bouncer type. No real loss to Baker, but bound to be irritating.

Spurling, though, was a different matter. Of the many cruel and psychotic dirtbags Gibbs had encountered during his career, he was right up there among the worst. It was the Accountant – so named by DiNozzo because of his inoffensive outward demeanour – who'd had Tony chained up to drown as the tide came in, taunting him almost to the end. He was Baker's 2-IC and his strategic skills were important to their operation. Baker wouldn't let him go lightly.

"Boss, about that guard, I really don't think …"

Gibbs swung round and advanced towards DiNozzo, pushing himself so far into the other man's space that Tony retreated until the backs of his legs hit his desk.

He held his ground, though. "I don' t need a bodyguard … and no, boss, you don't look as though you care", he said, getting in ahead of Gibbs.

"Damn right, DiNozzo", Gibbs said. "Someone from Marchetti's team will stick to you like glue. And if you even think", he shoved his face into DiNozzo's and tapped a finger on his chest for emphasis, "even think of giving them the slip, you'll answer to me. Got that?"

"Yeah, boss", DiNozzo said, "got it".

Gibbs eyeballed him a moment more, then nodded, satisfied, and retreated across the bullpen to his own desk. DiNozzo relaxed. He raised his eyebrows at Kate, who'd been watching with interest, and grimaced behind Gibbs' back.

It could have been worse, he supposed. Could have been one of his own team assigned to watch him. He didn't want them finding out how boring his off hours really were, especially Kate.

"Hey, Tony", McGee said," nice threads. That your best suit?"

"No, Probie, no", DiNozzo said as he turned to survey his desk, which Abby was festooning with black balloons she'd brought up from the lab. "Saving that one for the day Baker goes down. If he ever does … ow!"

"Positive thinking, DiNozzo". Gibbs, miraculously back behind him – damn, the old man could move fast – surreptitiously rubbed his hand. "Not if, when".

"Right, Boss!" DiNozzo threw Gibbs a mock salute as he sat down at his desk. "When. Abs, do you really think …"

"Oh, come on, Tony", Kate said, going to help Abby with a recalcitrant balloon. "You know you look good in black".

Gibbs suppressed a smile as he sat down behind his desk. Just another day in the bullpen. Today was better than most, though, they'd had a win. His phone rang, and he snatched it up.

Thirty seconds later, he'd changed his mind.

Abby and Kate were still laughing as they fussed about with the balloons, McGee advising from the sidelines. But from behind his desk, DiNozzo's eyes were fixed on Gibbs' face as he slammed the phone back into its cradle.

"What's up, Boss?" He got up and came to stand in front of Gibbs' desk. Behind him, the others picked up on the tension.

Gibbs stood up and kicked his wastebasket. Hard. "Baker sprang Spurling on his way to prison. Three guards and Bradshaw killed in the firefight. They had a helicopter standing by, he's long gone by now".

Only the pop of an overfilled balloon broke the silence that followed.


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He looked at his computer screen again, hoping the text had come back into focus. Still fuzzy. He really should have remembered his glasses.

At least nobody was around to see. No DiNozzo with his smart remarks, no McGee with his helpful suggestions and no Kate, with her irritating tact. It was nearly midnight, and he'd sent them all home hours ago. They were beat – everyone had slept in the office the night before, hoping for a break on the Spurling case.

He really should have gone home too. He needed the sleep, and his boat – where he did his best thinking as he worked – waited abandoned in his basement.

Knowing Spurling was free again had affected Dinozzo, Gibbs thought, no matter how much he denied it. He'd been haunted by nightmares for months after his rescue; giving evidence during the trial had brought them back. DiNozzo had laughed it off as usual, but Gibbs had seen the tightness around his mouth. Some memories didn't fade.

Gibbs could always guess when the dreams had been bad. DiNozzo would come into work with dark circles under his eyes, boasting to Kate and McGee that he'd had a hot date, but Gibbs wasn't fooled.

He'd spoken to Ducky about it. "I can look after their bodies, Jethro", the elderly ME had said, "but their minds are a different story. You can do more there than I, I think. But you know what he's like – he'd never admit to a problem. "

So Gibbs had ordered DiNozzo to see the NCIS shrink when the trial dragged on. Baker could afford good lawyers; they spared no effort trying to prove Tony a liar. The strain was considerable.

DiNozzo had argued Gibbs to a standstill. In the end, Gibbs had had to give him The Stare and threaten him with suspension. He'd gone once, and only once, said that was all he needed. The circles kept making an appearance, though, every now and then. Gibbs didn't push it.

Now he sat forward and stared at the screen again, willing the letters into focus. Reports and more reports of possible sightings. The bullpen was in darkness but for the circle of light from his lamp. Over behind the screens, the night team piled into the elevator, leaving on a callout.

Gibbs wished he could go with them. Action – any sort of action – would be preferable to this desk work, but it had to be done.

He skimmed a report of a sighting at a gas station about an hour away. McGee could check it out in the morning. Probably a false alarm, Spurling would be far away by now, but Gibbs didn't care.

He'd do whatever it took to get Spurling back behind bars. The Accountant had been the one who'd taunted DiNozzo as he left him to drown. That didn't sit well with Gibbs.

The minutes ticked by as he trawled through the reports. God, but he was tired.

The elevator pinged as its doors opened. Too early for the cleaners, night team must have forgotten something.

But the man who rounded the corner into the bullpen wasn't anyone Gibbs knew. He wore a pizza company jacket and balanced a hotpack in his hands. A black backpack hung from his shoulder. Older than the usual run of pizza guys, Gibbs thought.

"You Gibbs?" he asked, heading for Gibbs' desk.

"Who the hell are you?" Gibbs' hand moved unobtrusively towards his desk drawer.

"I would have thought that's obvious". Smart lip on the guy.

"How'd you get in here?" Security should have held him up, called Gibbs down to take the pizza. Not that he'd ordered one.

"Guard downstairs let me through when I said I had a pizza for you. It's from DiNozzo". He put the hotpack down on Gibbs' filing cabinet and took out an aromatic box.

Gibbs relaxed a little. DiNozzo – he should have known. Apparently he hadn't fooled Tony when he'd said he wasn't staying late himself.

He moved his hand away from the drawer. "What do I owe you?"

"It's paid for. Anything you'd care to add, though …" The man put the box down on Gibbs' desk and held out his hand.

Gibbs reached around to his back pocket for his wallet. The smell from the pizza box teased his nostrils. Peppers, mushrooms, meatballs.

Peppers. Gibbs hated peppers, DiNozzo knew that. He'd never order …

His gut kicked in, but not soon enough. As he straightened, the other man leant quickly over him and Gibbs felt something sting his neck.

He rocketed out of his chair, head aimed squarely at the man's nose, but it was already too late. His muscles were shutting down fast, one after another. His legs stopped holding him up, and his fingers refused to grip.

He tried in vain to clutch at his desk as he folded to the floor behind it and lay immobile, head banging against one of the wheels of his chair on the way down.

Nothing wrong with his hearing, though. As his attacker came round the desk towards him, Gibbs distinctly heard him say "Baker sends his regards".


	3. Chapter 3

From where Gibbs lay, unable to move, he could see out across the bullpen under the front of his desk. Carpet, desk legs, chair wheels, and DiNozzo's wastepaper basket.

Things seemed bigger from the floor.

He heard a zip being opened and then a rustling above him. His attacker taking something out of his backpack, shaking out a sack of some sort by the sound of it.

His feet were grabbed and inserted into the sack. Light canvas. The man pulled it up to Gibbs' waist, speaking softly all the time.

"Name's Waterson. I've been looking forward to meeting you, Gibbs, Spurling's a buddy of mine. You didn't think we'd let you take him down?"

Gibbs hadn't expected Baker to take the arrest of his men sitting down, but he hadn't looked for repercussions quite so soon after their escape.

"Oh, and in case you're wondering? The security cameras, they're off. Nobody's watching, Gibbs, it's just you and me. For the next twenty minutes, anyway, and that's all we need to get you out of here".

_We?_

"The guy downstairs? he's one of us, volunteered for night duty this week. Too bad you didn't go home to your boat tonight".

He slid the sack further up Gibbs' arms and laughed. "You like this drug I gave you? Baker does too. He has a good supplier, I can always …"

The elevator pinged.

Waterson dropped to a crouch beside Gibbs, his breathing suddenly faster, as the elevator doors slid open. Footsteps turned into the bullpen, and Gibbs heard the sound of a backpack being slung down beside a desk, a lamp being switched on.

DiNozzo. Pulling one of his night stints. He'd be extra keen to do that now where Spurling was concerned.

Gibbs could sense Waterson above him, tensed ready to spring. From nowhere, a gun had appeared in his hand.

Then the footsteps headed off again, and they heard a door close some way off. The head, Gibbs knew, from the direction of the sound.

"I'll be back to get you out of here, Gibbs", Waterson whispered, jamming his gun into Gibbs' cheek, "DiNozzo too, if we can manage it, Spurling wants to play. Otherwise …", he tapped his gun significantly and left the sentence unfinished.

Abruptly he was gone, sprinting silently for the door to the stairs, leaving Gibbs hidden helpless on the floor behind his desk.

DiNozzo came back from the head. His chair squeaked slightly as he sat down and turned on his computer. Picking up his phone, he punched in a number. Gibbs heard him talking, following up on a sighting of Spurling, arranging to meet someone the next morning.

Under his desk on the other side of the bullpen, DiNozzo's shoes were visible, one foot tapping out an intermittent rhythm as he talked. Then he cut the connection and the tapping stopped.

Gibbs willed himself to make a sound, any sound, but his vocal chords refused to cooperate.

The minutes ticked by. DiNozzo made a series of other calls, all to do with reported sightings. Then a lot of typing and the sound of a printer.

Gibbs heard the night team come back, and DiNozzo call out a greeting as they passed. Then there was nothing but the occasional turning of a page as Tony settled down to work on a report.

The soft whirr of the fan in Gibbs' computer magnified itself in the silence. An irritating itch developed on his cheek, maddening in its persistence. In his mind he scratched it raw.

How long had he been there? No way to tell. At least a couple of hours, he guessed. Waterson and his accomplice must be long gone by now, their plan to come back scuttled by the night team's return.

Full marks to the cleaning crew, no dustballs under the desk. Even the legs of his desk looked squeaky clean.

He strained every muscle he had, or tried to. The will was there, but the muscles weren't. God, Gibbs thought, I'm like a fish on a slab. His eyes were dry because he hadn't been able to close his eyelids for so long. _Fish sleep with their eyes open_, he thought as he drifted off despite himself.

The sound of a lamp being switched off jerked him awake again. Across the pen he saw DiNozzo's feet move around his desk. The backpack beside the desk disappeared from Gibbs' line of sight as the other agent picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. DiNozzo was going home.

If sheer will could have made a noise, Gibbs' shout would have been heard in Baltimore. In his mind, he banged his fist on the desk in frustration.

DiNozzo's footsteps headed out of the bullpen and down the corridor. Another few seconds and he'd be in the elevator and gone.

The footsteps hesitated. Gibbs heard DiNozzo click his tongue in exasperation, then retrace his steps. _Forgotten something_, he thought.

DiNozzo's feet came back into his line of sight, stopping for a second in front of his desk and then approaching Gibbs' own. He heard papers slapped down on the desk, the report he'd asked for by tomorrow morning.

The shoes turned to leave, then stopped and turned back. "That's weird", DiNozzo murmured, "virgin pizza. Gibbs must have forgotten it." Gibbs heard him flip open the lid of the box. "Peppers? Nope, not Gibbs. So why is it on his desk? "

_Look over the desk, DiNozzo, come round the desk. _

A slight thunk as the cardboard lid closed again, followed by the sound of chewing. Nobody but Gibbs would have heard it; ears like a bat, Abby always complained. His gut clenched with tension.

Then DiNozzo leaned over the desk to grab a tissue from the box on the shelf behind it and in the blue light from the computer screen looked straight down on Gibbs below.

"Boss! GIBBS!" His shout brought the night team running. DiNozzo vaulted the desk, careful where he landed in the narrow space. Gibbs felt his hands gently slapping his face, a hand grasping his then removed, felt himself turned and the sack pulled off his body. The last thing he heard before he allowed himself to drift away was DiNozzo dialling 911 as he crouched above him.


	4. Chapter 4

Monitors. Beeping. Gibbs stirred irritably and screwed up his face in a frown.

"He moved!" A familiar voice squealed from somewhere near his bed. " Ducky, look, he moved!" Abby jumped up and enveloped Ducky in a hug.

"Yes, my dear, the drug is wearing off, just as the doctors said it would", Ducky said. "It was never intended to be permanent, you know, only to incapacitate him till they could get him out of the building". To Gibbs, he added, "It was a fast-acting paralytic, very nasty".

"But, but, but, Ducky" Abby began to jig in her anxiety, her eyes fixed on Gibbs' face, "how do we know it's out of his system? I mean, he could be out hunting bears or something and then suddenly, bam, he can't move again, right? It can happen, Ducky, I saw it on Stranger than Fiction, you know that show Tony loves, he lent me his DVDs and I saw something just like that, and what if Gibbs … ".

"Abs", Gibbs sighed, opening his eyes, "you're on my speed dial". No need to mention Mc Gee had put her there for him. "If I need you, I'll just call, and you can talk the bear to death".

"Gibbs!" Abby's hug whooshed the air out of his lungs until a meaningful cough from Ducky made her think again.

"Sorry, Gibbs", she said contritely. "But it's just so good to see you, we've been so worried, Tony's been unbearable to live with, thank God for Kate, and McGee, he's … I'm doing it again, aren't I. Sorry". She trailed off, then got her second wind. "But I'll be there, Gibbs, faster than any bear can move, I promise, you just call". She pressed his hand to her chest.

"I know you will, Abs", Gibbs smiled up at her. He hadn't known that smiling, just being able to move the muscles of his face, could feel so good. Not good enough to do it too often, of course, but enough to tell him he was alive and in control of his body again.

"Abigail", Ducky suggested, laughing at Abby's mock glare at the use of her full name, "perhaps you could go and let the others know".

"Sure, Ducky", Abby bounced towards the door, "we'll be right back". Gibbs and Ducky heard her clattering down the corridor on her platforms towards the waiting room. She was back again a minute or so later, Kate and McGee by her side.

"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked when the flurry of anxious questions had subsided.

"Out chasing leads, Boss", McGee said. "He said he'd be here later if he could".

Gibbs nodded, satisfied. He'd have expected no less. Which brought him to what the others were doing here. A few minutes later, they left, each with a series of barked instructions . Abby went with them, eager to get on with the forensics from what little they'd found around Gibbs' desk. _My desk is a crime scene?_ he thought in passing, _t__hat's__ a new one._

Ducky laughed as he leaned against the window sill, watching them leave. "Your in-bed manner leaves something to be desired, you know, Jethro", he said when they'd gone. "You might at least have thanked them for coming by. They're worried about you, after all".

"They can worry on their own time, Duck", Gibbs retorted. "While they're playing nurse in here Spurling's getting further away".

He pushed back the sheet, threw his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand up. A chorus of beeps and whines from various machines brought the nursing staff running even as Ducky shot forward and tried to push him back.

He was weaker than he'd thought. Several minutes and a lot of self-directed cursing later, Gibbs admitted defeat and sank back into bed.

He tried The Glare on the bossiest of the nurses, a short dark woman with flashing eyes and a determined chin, but she remained adamant – if he tried that again, she'd cut off his legs. On balance, he thought he believed her. And he was damned tired, anyway, even if he didn't want to admit it. He closed his eyes and slept.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

A shadow hovering at his door brought him fully awake again. Instinctively he reached under his pillow for a gun that wasn't there.

"It's me, Boss, relax", DiNozzo hissed. He came further into the room. "I didn't want to wake you, sorry. Just checking".

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs sighed in exasperation. "I could have taken you out".

"Well, you could have if you'd had a gun", DiNozzo allowed, unrepentant. "Ducky says you're on the mend. Anything I can get for you?"

Gibbs ignored the question. "What've you found?" he asked.

"Not a thing", DiNozzo said. "The security guard only signed on at the start of the month. He was squeaky clean on his pre-entry checks". That just told them how powerful Baker's connections were. "He's long gone now, of course, Waterson too".

"What about the second guard?" The NCIS building entry checkpoint was always staffed by two guards.

"Found her asleep in a cupboard. Looks like he put something in her coffee".

Gibbs grunted and motioned DiNozzo to the chair beside the bed, but DiNozzo had other ideas. Crossing the room to the window side, he leaned against the wall and looked down at Gibbs. Gibbs could tell he had something on his mind.

"What?" he said. "Spit it out, DiNozzo".

DiNozzo gestured at the medical paraphernalia surrounding the bed. "This is my fault, Boss. It's me they want, but they came after you …"

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs' bark cut him off. "Come over here!"

DiNozzo dragged his feet to the bedside. Gibbs beckoned him closer. When he was within reach, Gibbs grabbed his collar and yanked him in close to his face.

"This is not your fault, DiNozzo, you hear me? It's not. Baker and Spurling, they don't care who they take down as long as they make their point. Got that?" He ended his sentence with a slap to the back of Tony's head, so gentle it hardly connected.

"I see you got your movement back, Boss. Yeah, Gibbs, got it". Gibbs had heard more convincing declarations from five-year-olds. He scowled at him and opened his mouth to start in again when someone came in at the door. Director Morrow, and Dr Mallard with him. Gibbs shut his mouth again.

"Gibbs. DiNozzo". The Director nodded at each of them in turn. He settled himself in the visitor's chair, while Ducky picked up the chart at the end of the bed and scanned it quickly.

When the Director had satisfied himself that Gibbs was on the mend, he turned to business. "I had another call from Baker".

Baker had called once before, to promise retaliation for the death of one of his enforcers in NCIS custody when Marchetti had left him alone long enough for someone else to get at him. DiNozzo raised his eyebrows at Gibbs.

The Director continued, "It seems he wants to rub it in. He was particularly keen to crow about how his men had managed to get to you inside NCIS. Said he could have taken you out at your place but getting through our security was more fun".

Gibbs made a dismissive sound in his throat. "Did he say anything else, sir?"

"It was a nasty call, Gibbs. Came straight in through MTAC, the confident bastard. He plans to help Spurling take out you and DiNozzo here and he wanted us to know it. Taunting us in advance, says he'll throw all his resources behind Spurling". Those resources were considerable. It wasn't a threat to be taken lightly.

DiNozzo and Gibbs exchanged a long look, a look which held memories of the last time Baker had sought revenge. DiNozzo relived it in his nightmares.

"Help Spurling?" Gibbs queried. "Since when do chief dirtbags help their underlings with their paybacks? It's supposed to be the other way round".

"It fits with what we know about Baker's lot, though, boss", DiNozzo said quietly. They'd known nothing of Spurling's existence before the events of the previous autumn, but since then had found out all there was to know. "He's Baker's 2-IC. If he's not happy, Baker's not happy. It's a self-preservation thing – Spurling could make a lot go wrong for the organisation if he got distracted trying to get back at us. Baker probably figures it's better to get it all out of the way now".

Ducky said quietly, "Hmmm, he doesn't believe the old saying that revenge is a dish best eaten cold, by the sound of it. I fear you've fallen foul of a bad man, Jethro, a very bad man indeed ".

"Ya think, Duck?" Gibbs' tone was dry, but his glance was soft.

"He won't get the chance", the Director interrupted, "I want you all out of here until we bring him down. That's what I came to tell you. Oh, and to check how you are, of course", he smiled at Gibbs.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, for practice.

"It's too dangerous for all of you here, especially you, Gibbs, you're still weakened by this drug thing. You're better out of Washington. There's a safe house a few hours away, you and the whole team can hole up there until this is over".

"And that will be when?" Gibbs asked dryly at the same moment as DiNozzo said "Over? It's never going to be over, not till Spurling's dead, we know that now. Why don't we stay in Washington and tough it out?" Gibbs nodded his agreement.

"No", Morrow was adamant. "Baker's already taken down two NCIS agents, I don't want to go to any more funerals".

"With respect, Director", Ducky interrupted, "I believe I have an alternative to suggest".

He outlined his plan. A van with blacked out windows, presumably containing Gibbs' team, would leave NCIS and head for the safe house, aiming to fool Baker into following it. Meanwhile, Gibbs and the rest of the team would head off to a place Ducky knew of in the mountains, empty and at his disposal.

"It belonged to my aunt and uncle. It's well hidden in the forest, that's why they liked it, it reminded them of … well, it doesn't matter. They should be safe enough there, and of course, I'll go with them to keep an eye on Gibbs". He returned Gibbs' glare. "Well, the doctors here did think that a temporary relapse isn't out of the question. It's marked on your chart to watch out for".

Director Morrow thought it over. "It might well work, at least long enough for the other teams to take Spurling down at the safe house. But you'll make contact with me four times a day, and do nothing unless I tell you. Understood?"

Gibbs wasn't happy and it showed.

"Understood, Agent Gibbs?"

He nodded reluctantly. "Understood, Director. But I agree with DiNozzo …"

"Good, it's settled, then", the Director interrupted. "I'll have Gates get in touch with the details once we've worked things out". He turned to Ducky and DiNozzo. "I'd like a word alone with Agent Gibbs, if you don't mind". They nodded and left the room.

Outside Gibbs' room, Tony slouched against the wall. "How is he really, Ducky? Is he as OK as he thinks?"

"Mmm, well, the effects of the drug seem to have mostly worn off except for some residual weakness. But the doctors here tell me this particular drug has a nasty habit of causing relapses until it's completely out of the system, particularly when the subject's under stress". He looked at Tony. "I don't need to tell you what that means".

"Shut Down Central", DiNozzo said reflectively. "But that would wear off, right?"

"Eventually", Ducky said, "and probably more quickly than this first time, but he'll be just about completely out of action until it does".

"Right", DiNozzo said. "Good thing you're coming with us, then. Director". He pulled himself upright as the Director came out of Gibbs' room. The Director bade them goodnight, or rather good morning, and headed off down the hallway.

DiNozzo almost wished he could follow him. It seemed a safer alternative than going back into Gibbs' room.


	5. Chapter 5

The vehicle labouring up a hill in the heat the next day bore no resemblance to the sleek black air-conditioned van that had nosed out of the NCIS garage bound for the safe house early that morning. An old yellow decommissioned school bus held Gibbs' team, Ducky and enough equipment and supplies to do an army for a week. Or so Kate had remarked when she surveyed the pile as she got in.

Marchetti and his team were already in place, having gone ahead an hour or two earlier to ensure the site was secure. Marchetti's one-week suspension over the lapse in protocol which had led to the death in custody of one of Baker's enforcers last autumn had hit him hard, and he was determined to make no mistakes on this operation. He and Gil Yamada, his senior field agent, searched the house on their arrival while the other two members of his team, Bill Saunders and Julie O'Connell, ranged through the woods around it, looking for any traces of recent human activity.

"You sure we're heading in the right direction, Duck?" Gibbs asked as the driver shifted gears to negotiate a steep upward curve in the road. "Haven't seen anything but trees for a while".

"Relax, Jethro", Ducky said, "that's the whole point, I'd have thought. According to my map we've only a few miles to go. Just over this next crest and then down and along the valley floor a bit and we're there".

"Tony!" Kate leaned over the back of her seat and nudged DiNozzo, who lay sprawled across two seats, long legs sticking out into the aisle. "Wake up, we're nearly there".

"For your information, Caitlin", came the drawl from under the baseball cap pulled down over his face, "I'm not asleep. I'm keeping an ear out for anomalies". He pulled himself upright and took off the cap to fan himself with it. "It sure is hot".

"Anomalies?" Kate asked, pushing her window wider open. "That's a big word, Tony. Are you sure you know what it means?" If DiNozzo's brush with death last year had softened her attitude towards him, it didn't show.

DiNozzo favoured her with his best James Bond look. "It means unusual sounds, Kate, something out of the ordinary, things we senior field agents are trained to look out for".

They bickered amiably on for several minutes. Gibbs' eyes met Ducky's across the aisle. _Shoot me now_, his said, but Ducky's only twinkled with amusement.

The bus began to descend the other side of the hill, the driver carefully negotiating the bends.

Up front, McGee swung round in his seat. "Is that it, Ducky?" He pointed to a roof just barely visible among the trees near the bottom of the incline.

"No", Ducky glanced down at his map, "that's the ranger station. We have a way to go yet".

"Are we there yet?" DiNozzo sniped sotto voce to Kate. "Are we there yet, Mom …OW!"

Gibbs sat back in his seat. It had taken all his energy to lean forward over the two seats separating him from DiNozzo, and he didn't like that fact.

Twenty minutes later the bus pulled over to the side of the road and the driver looked back for instructions. Ducky scratched his head.

"There should be a road somewhere here off to the left, down towards the river. It's marked on the map, and Aunt Clarabelle was quite specific about it in her directions".

"Directions?" Gibbs asked. "You did say you'd been here before, didn't you, Duck?"

"Er, no, Jethro", Ducky said, "As a matter of fact, I haven't, I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. No, my Aunt Clarabelle told me about this place, she and Uncle Gizmo bought it from the boy scouts years ago and used it as a summer home till they moved back to Britain".

"What, they didn't sell it?"

"No, they kept the place because they thought they'd come back now and then, but they never have and now I don't suppose they ever will. I've never been here myself, always meant to but I was always too busy".

Ducky and the driver got out of the bus and stood with their heads together over the map, leaving the others to sit in the heat. Gibbs sank back into his seat with a sigh of exasperation and drummed his fingers on the back of the empty seat in front.

Another half an hour of slow driving back and forth along the road eventually resulted in the discovery of a badly overgrown track leading off in the direction of the river. The bus nosed carefully down it, branches scratching against the windows. Now that they knew where it was, they could see that someone else had pushed their way down the track before them.

"What the hell …" Gibbs and DiNozzo were on their feet, hands at their Sigs, but it was only Marchetti who'd jumped out from among the trees lining the track, one hand raised to halt the bus. He jumped on board and sat down next to Gibbs to deliver a sitrep.

Ten minutes more of slow progress brought them into a clearing in which stood a ramshackle old two-story building. A van belonging to Marchetti's team was parked nose in to the bushes outside. Gibbs and the others piled out of the bus and surveyed their surroundings.

"The Hyatt it ain't", DiNozzo remarked, hauling his bag after him. McGee's face fell as he took in the peeling clapboard, the overgrown garden and the shutter hanging askew from one of the upper windows.

"It'll do", Gibbs snapped. He pushed past them and headed for the front door, bag in hand.

The inside was even more unprepossessing than the outside. Old, dusty furniture, smeared windows broken in places, a threadbare rug or two on the floor.

"You should have seen it when we got here". Marchetti carried in a pile of sleeping bags. "At least we've got rid of the cobwebs and swept up the floor a bit". The other members of his team appeared behind him, arms full of boxes. At Gibbs' jerk of the head, DiNozzo and the others left to help unload the bus.

Half an hour later, the supplies were inside and the bus was heading back down the track, on its way back to civilisation as McGee morosely pointed out.

"Where do we sleep, Ducky?" Kate asked. "Upstairs, I guess?" She turned to head up the stairs.

"Ah, Caitlin", she turned at Ducky's tone, "I may have forgotten to mention that there will be some sharing involved. Well, it was a scout bunkhouse, after all, and Aunt Clarabelle didn't see any reason to change things. They liked to rough it, the old dears, it made them feel young again".

"Sharing", Kate said. "Right, no problem. How many bedrooms are there?"

"Four, I believe", Ducky said. "Double bunks in each".

Kate and DiNozzo looked at each other but Gibbs forestalled any smart remarks, brushing past them up the stairs. "Duck, with me. DiNozzo and McGee, you're together, and Kate, you're by yourself for now. Marchetti's team can use the fourth". They lugged their gear upstairs.

Back down again a few minutes later, McGee busied himself setting up communications equipment, using the generator unloaded from the bus. The others came down one by one and attended to their appointed tasks.

Duty done, they gathered in the main room.

"So what do we do now, Boss?" DiNozzo asked. Gibbs sensed the tension behind the question.

"We follow orders, DiNozzo", he said. "We wait".


	6. Chapter 6

Four a.m. and the bunkhouse lay in darkness, the first rays of dawn not yet penetrating the forest. Outside in the forest Marchetti's black-clad team patrolled a perimeter, radioing in a whispered sitrep at the end of each sector. Inside, Gibbs' team supposedly slept.

DiNozzo lay on his side, one arm thrown out over the edge of the lower bunk and grazing the floor. Above him, McGee gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the soft snores drifting up from below. Restless in the heat, he shifted position carefully. Tony had promised to gut him if he made the bunks squeak.

The radio equipment was on his mind. Cell phone reception out here wasn't great; even when they could get it, it was patchy. NCIS had much better ways of communicating by radio, but McGee wasn't an expert, and it worried him.

A sudden silence took his mind off the radio. Below him, the snoring had stopped. With a sigh of relief, McGee turned on to his stomach and let himself begin to drift off to sleep.

Not for long. The flimsy metal bunk frames shook as DiNozzo heaved himself around in his sleep. McGee sighed in annoyance and thought about accidentally dropping his pillow on top of his bunkmate. Not a wise move, on balance, he thought, but very, very tempting.

McGee had been the one to cut DiNozzo free of the chains trapping him underwater during his last tangle with Spurling. Their relationship hadn't exactly changed since then, Tony still teased him unmercifully, but he'd toned it down a bit. Until now, at least, when the news of Spurling's escape had brought it back full force as he took some of his tension out on McGee.

The probie thought back over the months since last autumn. He and Kate had expected DiNozzo to brag insufferably about what they had to admit was his great courage during the underwater rescue, but he hadn't. Apart from a heartfelt "Thanks, Probie" to McGee when he'd visited him in the hospital, and the sudden appearance of the very latest in cutting-edge handheld computers in a giftwrapped box on McGee's desk, he'd never mentioned it again. It was out of character, and it worried them a bit.

The narrow bunk shook again, harder this time, and McGee clutched the side. He hated top bunks, always had, but DiNozzo hadn't been open to discussion. This was getting too much, though, he'd be on the floor if DiNozzo didn't stop thrashing about …

Thrashing about. _Think about it, Tim_, McGee admonished himself as he threw himself off the bunk and landed on the floor. He knelt beside DiNozzo's bunk and grabbed his flailing arms as Tony erupted into a full blown nightmare.

The scream had no sooner left DiNozzo's throat than McGee found his wrists gripped hard and forced away. Tony's head came up in a classic headbut that would have broken McGee's nose if he hadn't flung himself aside, breaking the other man's grip.

"Tony, it's me, McGee! It's a dream, that's all, just a dream". McGee pulled himself upright again and rubbed his wrists. DiNozzo was awake now, just.

"What the …" Sweat poured down DiNozzo's face as his eyes slowly focused. Then abruptly he was there in the room with McGee, fully alert.

"You had a dream", McGee said again. He listened for sounds of movement in the other rooms, but all was quiet.

DiNozzo sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk in one convulsive motion. Gradually his breathing calmed and his eyes flicked round the room in embarrassment. "I thought you … sorry, Probie, I could have hurt you". He looked up suddenly. "I didn't, did I?"

"Don't worry, I ducked", McGee said solemnly, not sure how to handle the moment. Maybe he should have grinned. Not for the first time he wished he knew how to act with tough guys like DiNozzo and Gibbs.

DiNozzo ran his hands through his hair and scrubbed his face. "Think I'll go downstairs. It's too damn hot in here". He stood up.

"Will you be …" McGee cut off the question at the other man's look. "Sure. See you in the morning".

"Get some sleep, Probie. Sorry I woke you". And DiNozzo was gone.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Tony walked softly down the stairs, trying not to make them squeak. Nodding a greeting to Julie O'Connell where she sat monitoring the radio equipment in the kitchen, he went over to the window of the main room and peered out.

Nothing. The clearing in front of the bunkhouse lay empty in the shadows, except for the van nosed into the trees. He strained his eyes towards the forest, trying to spot one of Marchetti's team, but saw no-one. Just as well.

A discreet cough made him jump. He swung around, hand going to his hip, then relaxed. Gibbs was standing close behind him.

"Boss! What are you …"

"Couldn't sleep, DiNozzo?" Something in his look told DiNozzo he'd heard the nightmare. He shrugged.

Gibbs looked hard at him. "Thought I heard a noise upstairs. McGee have a bad dream?"

"Something like that, Boss, he's OK".

"Well, lucky you were there, then, DiNozzo, isn't it", Gibbs said sardonically as he walked past Tony and sat down in a tattered old recliner. "Sit down, Tony".

DiNozzo took a seat on the equally tattered couch, recoiling as a broken spring dug into his thigh. They sat in silence for a while, each lost in his own thoughts.

"He won't let go, will he", DiNozzo said finally. "Pete and Simmond's fiancée weren't enough for him, he wants us all".

He waited for the usual sarcastic "Ya think, DiNozzo?" but it didn't come. Instead, "You're right, Tony", Gibbs said slowly. "He wants us all. The question is, how do we stop him? That safe house won't fool him for long".

DiNozzo blinked. Gibbs had never asked his advice before. And he wasn't now, he realised, but he was thinking aloud, something else he'd seldom done before, at least in front of his agent.

He opened his mouth to reply but a loud squawk from the radio equipment distracted them both. Julie looked up, one hand steadying her earpiece, and gestured urgently to them to join her.

They ran through to the kitchen. "It's the safe house", she said. "Baker's torched it. Left a message to say we'd have to do better than that to fool him".

"Anyone hurt?" Gibbs asked.

"One agent down", Julie reported, listening intently, "Don't know who it is. The others … no, the others got out".

Gibbs nodded grimly. Odd that they hadn't been cut down as they ran out, Spurling didn't believe in leaving survivors. DiNozzo voiced the same thought as the two men moved back into the main room. He stood looking out of the window as he asked, "Boss, you think Spurling …?"

His face changed and he hurled himself into Gibbs, knocking him out of the way as something crashed through the window and rolled across the floor. With a dull whump, flames raced up the curtains and reached for the timber walls.

"There's your answer, Tony", Gibbs said when he had his breath back. Spurling hadn't been there to take out the safe house and its occupants, he'd had other fish to fry. Somehow he'd tracked them to the cabin.


	7. Chapter 7

Kate flew down the stairs, McGee and Ducky close behind. She wrenched out the sofa cushions and began to beat out the flames as DiNozzo ran to help her.

Finding Gibbs and DiNozzo uninjured, Ducky turned to check McGee, who was talking urgently with Julie in the kitchen, relaying their situation to Washington.

"Boss!" McGee called. "Helo on the way. If we can hold them off till it gets here …"

A burst of firing outside cut him off, directed not at the bunkhouse but into the woods. Marchetti, tracking Spurling's men. Gibbs tensed, sliding instantly into firing position, as the door burst open and Marchetti himself fell inside and kicked it shut behind him.

"Sitrep!" Gibbs barked. "Where are they?"

"Saunders and Yamada are fine, one of theirs is winged", Marchetti panted. "Far as I can tell, they're back in the forest a bit, regrouping as we speak".

DiNozzo stamped out some burning scraps of fabric on the floor. "Boss, I can sneak out the back, work around behind them …"

"Forget it, DiNozzo, they'd be expecting that".

"What if I …"

"Forget it, I said. I need you here".

Before DiNozzo could ask what for, the radio in the kitchen hummed and Director Morrow's voice became audible. Gibbs moved cautiously through the haze and smoke, avoiding the windows, until he reached the table and gestured to Julie to give him the mike.

"Director?" he snapped.

"Gibbs, that you?"

"Yes, sir".

"Put Marchetti on, I'm putting him in charge". No explanation, just the bare command.

Gibbs held out the mike to Marchetti, who shot him a look that was a mixture of embarrassment and determination. Embarrassment that Gibbs had been passed over in favour of the man who'd so spectacularly screwed up their last encounter with Baker and his men, determination not to let the side down again.

When Marchetti signed off a minute later, he stood with his back to them for a moment before he turned to face them. He looked almost scared, and not of the dirtbags outside. Then he swung into action.

"I'm to get all of you away into the forest until you can be helo-ed out. No arguments, he said". He looked straight at Gibbs as he spoke.

Gibbs said nothing. The look on his face said it all for him, but he sucked it up. For now, they needed to get out of there.

Marchettti spoke briefly to Saunders on his field mike. He'd just begun to lay out his plan when a taunting voice, distorted by a loudhailer, came out of the forest. The effect on DiNozzo was immediate. He swung around to the window, unable to hide the horrified recognition on his face.

"Give it up now, Gibbs, and come outside. It's you and DiNozzo we want, the rest can go".

"It's him, Boss, it's Spurling", DiNozzo hissed. "And don't think for a minute he won't kill the others, it's just a ploy to get us out there".

"You don't say, DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped, but his eyes lingered for a moment on DiNozzo's face, sizing him up as the man responsible for his nightmares reached out from the past and touched him. "You OK, Tony?" he asked quietly.

He saw the flicker of fear in DiNozzo's eyes, quickly subdued but undeniably there, and wasn't surprised. DiNozzo's last encounter with Spurling had been with a man who laughed as he hurt him and planned his slow and terror-filled death. Not a man you'd want to meet again. Gibbs couldn't wait.

DiNozzo took a deep breath and forced a smile. Gibbs could see the courage it took to push the fear aside. "Sure, Boss, never better. Let's get this dirtbag once and for all".

"Gibbs, DiNozzo!" Marchetti broke in. "All of you, out the back, now! Saunders and Yamada will have you covered. Head for the ranger's hut downstream, the one we passed on the way in".

"What makes you think he hasn't found that too?" DiNozzo asked.

"I don't know that he hasn't", Marchetti answered, "but he's not there now. He's outside in the forest, right here. We can hold him off until the helo gets here. The rest of you, head out now". In the kitchen, Julie O'Connell rose and strapped on her weapon.

Gibbs gave no sign of moving. Marchetti came up in front of him and looked directly into his eyes, ignoring the blue-eyed Stare. "Gibbs, please, don't fight me. Let me make this good". It would make up for the last time, his eyes signalled.

Gibbs maintained eye contact for a few seconds more and then slowly nodded. "OK", he said. "You're the boss". Turning to the others, he shouted "Only what you can carry in your pockets. Grab some water. Move it!"

His team needed no urging. Each scooped up a bottle of water from the crate in the kitchen and stuck it into their clothing wherever they could.

Ducky fronted up to Gibbs. "I'm taking my bag, Jethro, don't tell me I can't. Should one of us be injured, we'll need it".

"No bag, Duck, it'll only slow you down. Just put what you can in a backpack."

Ducky sighed and hurriedly began to take out parts of his medical kit.

Two minutes later, Marchetti and Julie spewed a hail of distracting fire from what remained of the front windows in the direction of Spurling's voice while Gibbs and his team slipped out the back door under Saunders' watchful eye.

A shout off to the right told them they'd been spotted, but they reached the cover of the trees unintercepted.

No way to tell how many men Spurling had. _At least six_, Gibbs thought. He shot a look back over his shoulder as they ran towards the river. Return fire from the forest to the front of the house made a counterpoint to the NCIS guns. Marchetti was more than making up for his previous screw-up now. Gibbs just hoped it didn't turn out to be a deathbed sacrifice.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey!" Gibbs' harsh whisper alerted the others. "Over there!"

They followed the direction of his pointing finger and saw a burst of smoke billowing through the forest some distance ahead of them, fanned by a rising wind. In the crushing heat, the trees burned like candles, the undergrowth catching the sparks. Tiny creatures rushed past the team, heading for the river.

The sun was well and truly up now, the heat even worse than it had been during the night.

"He's cutting us off", Gibbs said. "The bastard knows where we're headed. They've circled round and set a fire between us and the hut".

DiNozzo caught up with them. "There'd be a radio there, he'd know that". His eyes narrowed as he stared at the fire ahead, calculating their chances of making it through. "Boss, maybe if we …"

"Don't even think about it, DiNozzo", Gibbs ordered. "The front's too wide, and it's between us and the river except for that gap to the west. They'd pick us off one by one as we came through".

"But how did they get ahead of us?" Ducky asked, coming up behind them. "We didn't see anyone … did we?" he asked suspiciously, squinting at Gibbs.

"No, Duck, we didn't", Gibbs confirmed. "My guess is he had men here all along. Probably radioed them to set the fire when they saw us heading off".

"We don't have much time, then", McGee said, "and neither have they. A forest fire this big, it's bound to attract attention. Someone will come to check it out".

"Ya think, McGee?" Gibbs' voice lacked its customary bite. His eyes scanned the terrain for signs of movement.

"Well, I … I know you know that, Boss", McGee started as Gibbs turned away.

"Kate?" She'd run ahead to check whether their route to the river was blocked and now doubled back towards them at a run.

"It's clear, Gibbs, we can get through".

"You and McGee and Ducky, then, head for the river, you'll be safe there until the helo arrives".

"What about you and Tony? Shouldn't we all go together?" The wind whipped her words away, but Gibbs heard her and nodded.

"It's not a discussion, Kate, it's an order. Stay with the others, make sure they get out. Go! We'll be right behind you".

Kate beckoned to McGee, whose forehead was beaded with more sweat than the heat could explain. Ducky huffed up beside Gibbs. "Jethro, I must insist that we all …"

"Not now, Duck", Gibbs interrupted as sporadic gunfire sounded from behind them. "Go with the others, we'll hold them off". He jerked his head at DiNozzo, who angled off through the forest in a pincer movement aimed at catching Spurling's men in a crossfire.

Ten minutes later, Kate, McGee and Ducky had reached the river. They turned as one to scan the forest behind them. "Where are they?" Kate hissed.

"I don't know", McGee said slowly, his eyes traversing the treeline. "They should 've been …"

Three shots rang out, from the sound of them a few minutes behind them, and someone cried out.

"Right!" Kate dropped her water bottle and took her Sig out of the waistband of her jeans. "I'm going back. Stay here, McGee, look after Ducky".

"Caitlin", Ducky said quietly, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder as she bent to shake a stone from her shoe, "for one thing, I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, though I thank you for the thought. And for another, do you really want to be the one to tell Gibbs you've disobeyed his orders? He specifically told you to make sure the others got out. Jethro and Anthony are more than capable of taking care of themselves".

Kate stood up and looked at him. Over Ducky's shoulder, McGee raised his eyebrows at her. She stood irresolute, straining her eyes back into the forest.

The sudden clatter of an approaching helicopter made up her mind. Above them, the branches tossed and swirled and the surface of the river frilled as the approaching downdraft troubled the waters. The shadow of the helicopter fell across their upturned faces.

"But … there's nowhere for him to land", McGee shouted. "What are we …"

"It's called an extraction, McGee. Watch and learn", Kate shouted. A rope ladder snaked down towards them as the helicopter hovered above the river.

"You've got to be joking!" McGee's face was a picture. Kate filed it away in the remember-to-tell-DiNozzo closet of her mind.

"Nothing to it, Timothy", Ducky shouted encouragingly. "Just close your eyes and climb. Now!"

"You first, Doctor Mallard". McGee recovered himself sufficiently to urge the doctor forward.

"Oh, very well," Ducky said, "this is how it's done". He grabbed the swaying ladder, put a foot on the first rung and began to climb. McGee paled as he watched the elderly medic swinging in the downdraft. Above them, strong hands reached out from the cabin to help Ducky on board.

"He's up, McGee. Off you go!" Kate screamed above the clatter of the rotors.

"What about the others?" McGee shouted back.

"I can't see them! Get on board. Go, now!" Kate threw a look back over her shoulder as she shoved McGee none too gently towards the crazily swinging ladder.

McGee closed his eyes, swallowed hard and grabbed the rope. He tried unsuccessfully to get both feet on it. Sweat poured down his now distinctly greenish face.

"I .. I can't, Kate. I'm sorry". He let go of the ladder. "I just can't do it".

"McGee!" Kate screamed at him. "Get up! NOW!"

McGee shook his head. No matter what the repercussions were, and they weren't likely to be pretty, he knew there was no way he could scale that ladder. Gibbs would probably make him do it twenty times and make sure he never worked as a field agent again, that's if he didn't kill him outright. Not even that thought could spur him to move.

Cunning kicked in. "Maybe if you showed me again how it's done, Kate?" He backed away from the ladder as he spoke, making way for her, preparing to fade into the forest

Kate huffed in exasperation and grabbed the swinging ladder. Above her, the pilot gestured urgently for them to board. She swung herself up, collapsed on the floor of the cabin, and turned to look down at McGee.

He wasn't there. She scanned the riverbed wildly for his body before she realised he'd simply left rather than face the ladder. No sign of him anywhere.

She gasped out a sitrep to the onboard commander.

"We'll have to leave him, the updraft from the fire's getting too strong. What about the others? right behind you, you said? Dan, pull up and look around". The pilot gave a thumbs up. The helicopter rose and canted to the right, sweeping down over the forest in a search for Gibbs and Dinozzo.

"There they are!" Running through the trees toward the river, dodging as they went, shooting back over their shoulders.

The helo jerked and shuddered. Ducky jumped as bullets tore through the fuselage not far from him.

"What's wrong?" Kate shouted, wrenching her attention away from the running figures on the ground.

"We're taking fire! Some bastard's got an Uzzi!" The commander turned to the pilot. "Pull up! Pull up! Go, go go!" The rotors shrieked as they shot upwards. Kate fell back against Ducky, banging her shoulder on the edge of the seat. The helicopter gained height.

"What about the others? We can't leave them!" Mouth open in shock, she stared at the commander. "Go back! Go back!"

"Sorry, ma'am". The commander shook his head. "Between the updraft and the Uzzi down there, we're done here. Could lose the bird if we stay". He reached for his com mike. "I'll radio in for help".

Banging the floor in frustration, Kate could only stare down at the fast receding forest floor below as the helicopter gathered height and speed and wheeled away in the direction of Washington.

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

On the ground, Gibbs and DiNozzo stared at each other as the clatter of the blades receded. "Too bad you weren't a Boy Scout, DiNozzo", Gibbs said. "Looks like we're here for a while".

DiNozzo, his face streaked with dirt and his eyes red from smoke, grinned. "Always be prepared, you taught me, Boss", he said, gesturing to the knife in his belt. "We'd better head … Gibbs!"

Gibbs staggered and almost fell, clutching at his arm, as a shot rang out. DiNozzo caught him and dragged them both to cover behind a spreading tree-trunk.

"How bad is it?" DiNozzo asked, returning fire in the direction of their attacker. A cry of pain answered his shots and he heard someone stumble back in the direction of the cabin.

"Just a flesh wound", Gibbs gritted his teeth against the pain."A through and through".

He brushed DiNozzo away as he tried to look at it. "Can't afford to stop. Spurling doesn't care about the others, never did. He wants you, DiNozzo, and then me. Get going!"

"Why you, Boss?"

"I almost choked him to death to make him tell me where you were back at that warehouse", Gibbs said. "Sent him sprawling in the dirt, too. He won't forgive that in a hurry. Too much pride".

DiNozzo looked hard at him, not liking the pallor of Gibbs' face. "Best be on our way, then". They headed off in the direction of the river, Gibbs clasping his arm, as the fire drove them upstream away from the hut. He seemed to be slowing down. DiNozzo reached for his boss's good arm and hauled it over his shoulder.


	9. Chapter 9

DiNozzo squinted up at the sun and tried to estimate the time, cursing the loss of the watch he'd left back at the cabin. He shot an unobtrusive glance at his boss.

Gibbs didn't look good. The wound in his arm was clearly bothering him. Worse, to Dinozzo's eyes, were the minute but worrying signs of muscle weakness. The stress of being shot seemed to be bringing on the relapse Ducky had warned about.

He eased Gibbs down to sit on a rock. They'd reached the river's edge now, but the fire to their left cut them off from the hut. Shouts not too far away told him Spurling's men weren't far behind them. Time to cross the river, then.

DiNozzo reached for the water bottle shoved into his shirt and held it to Gibbs' lips. The heat, made worse by the fire, beat down on them. He drained some of the water into Gibbs' now unresisting mouth, cleaned around the bullet wound with a little more, took a final swig for himself and threw the plastic bottle away. Time to be eco-friendly later.

"Boss!" He shook Gibbs' uninjured arm. Gibbs took far too long to raise his head. "Boss, come on, we have to keep moving".

"Right!" The word was slurred, but Gibbs heaved himself up. Or tried to. His knees buckled under him and DiNozzo only just caught him as he fell.

"Boss! Gibbs!" He hoped his voice didn't betray the fear he felt.

"I'm fine, DiNozzo, stop your fussing". Gibbs made a decent attempt at crankiness, but his words ran together. "Leave … me here, I'll hold them off".

"Not going to happen, Boss". DiNozzo ran a clinical eye over the other man. Not a snowball's chance in hell that Gibbs could go any further under his own steam. He bent his knees and hauled Gibbs over his shoulders in a fireman's lift, then straightened and splashed into the river.

Of all the things that worried him, Gibbs' lack of protest was the worst. That and the way his hands lay slack in DiNozzo's grip, exerting no pressure of their own.

Balancing Gibbs carefully across his back, DiNozzo reached down to the water and splashed some of its welcome coolness up into their faces and over Gibbs' arm. He cursed as Gibbs' Sig slipped from his belt and fell into the river. No time to stop and dry it out. Bending carefully, he retrieved the clip, then kicked the gun under a rock and left it there.

His eyes scanned the terrain ahead of them. On the other side of the river, low cliffs lined the water's edge, the only break a canyon of sorts almost directly opposite which petered out in a dead end after half a mile or so. Other than trees and bushes, it offered little in the way of shelter or hiding place. And it was too obviously the only place around they could be.

DiNozzo looked back over his shoulder. Sounds of pursuit drifted his way. No way Gibbs could climb. It was the canyon or nothing, then. He gritted his teeth and hauled them to the other side of the river.

Once there, he lost no time in getting Gibbs out of the sun into the temporary shelter of the trees. It couldn't last, though. Once Spurling and his men regrouped and crossed the river, they'd be sitting ducks, trapped in the canyon with nowhere to go.

Gibbs lay where DiNozzo had set him down, eerily still. Heart pounding, DiNozzo felt for a pulse in his neck. It was there, strong enough to reassure him. Gibbs' muscles might be useless, but his vital signs were strong.

DiNozzo ripped off his T-shirt and tore it into strips, then wrapped them round the flesh wound on Gibbs' arm. He took a critical look at his handiwork. Rough, but it would have to do, at least until they could get proper medical help.

And that wasn't going to happen unless they got out of the canyon. He sized up its stony walls. Not much more than about thirty feet up, probably, and sloping enough in places, though in other places he saw rocky outcrops that would take some fancy footwork. Easy enough on his own; with another man on his back, a different matter.

He took off his pants and cut them down into shorts with the knife in his belt, ripping the legs into strips and knotting them together.

The relentless sun beat down, but they couldn't wait. Now or never, DiNozzo thought, and hoisted the now unconscious Gibbs piggy-back on to his back. Cursing and fumbling, he tied Gibbs firmly to him with the strips of cloth from his pants and headed off to the side of the canyon to begin the climb.

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

A fly was divebombing Gibbs' cheek. He tried to swat it, but his hand wouldn't move. His other cheek was pressed hard up against something hot and sweaty that kept on moving under his face. He felt himself being hauled painfully, slowly, upwards. The earth spun crazily around him in the corners of his vision.

A sudden rush of adrenalin set his nerves jangling as his mind tried frantically to remember where he was. He tried to jerk himself backwards, away from whoever had him, but his muscles refused to obey. Something about the other man was familiar, more than familiar, but …

Then awareness returned and he knew where he was. He was tied to DiNozzo, the heat under his face from DiNozzo's neck. Gibbs' face was pressed fast against it; the sweat from the other man's skin stung the abrasions on his cheeks.

His arms were slung around DiNozzo's shoulders and his wrists, judging by the pressure on them, were tied together, keeping them from dangling loose. His left arm stung like fire. Something bound him tight to DiNozzo at the waist, and some sort of headband bound their heads together, keeping his from falling backwards.

_Damn_, a little voice in his head said, _he would have made a great boy scout. Couldn't have done it better myself. _

Slowly, blurrily, his vision returned.

They seemed to be climbing – or DiNozzo was climbing – the sloping walls of the canyon he'd last seen from the bottom before he passed out.

DiNozzo sensed the change. "Boss? You awake? Gibbs?" He stopped for a moment, bent almost double on the steep slope, one arm crooked around a stunted tree trunk to keep them from sliding backwards. Gibbs could feel his chest heaving, panting for breath.

DiNozzo tried to turn his head but couldn't; Gibbs' own head turned with it, bound together as they were.

"Can't stop, Boss. Got to get to the top before those bastards catch us in the open. Sorry".

He began toiling upward again. Gibbs lolled against his back, his mind furious, his limbs flaccid. He felt himself falling back into blackness.

When next he came to, it was clear they were in a tough spot. The slope had given way to a much steeper stretch of rock wall which lay between them and the top.

DiNozzo stretched from handhold to handhold, feeling his way carefully. Gibbs could feel the superhuman tension in the other man's muscles as he strained to lift them higher. In his mind's eye he saw the corded muscles standing out on DiNozzo's forehead. He willed himself still, almost grateful that he couldn't move.

Slowly, inch by agonising inch, DiNozzo hauled them upwards.

Five feet from the top of the rock face, he stopped, his lungs labouring for breath and his muscles beginning to tremble uncontrollably. Gibbs held his breath. They hung there for a minute, two, three, DiNozzo's hands rigid around the handholds he'd found in the rock. Sweat poured from his face and body.

_That's it_, Gibbs thought, _we're done_. Then he felt DiNozzo suck in a huge lungful of air and gradually, painfully begin to inch them upward again.

Ten minutes later DiNozzo pulled them over the lip of the rockface on to blessedly level ground and collapsed in a panting heap, Gibbs perforce with him.

"Tony". Gibbs found himself able to speak again, only a faint rasp. DiNozzo didn't hear it through the roaring in his ears.

"Tony!" Stronger this time. DiNozzo lifted his head – their heads - and wiped the sweat out of his eyes.

"Yeah, Boss". More of a gasp than an answer.

"Untie me". DiNozzo nodded, his face pushed back into the ground by the weight on his back. He heaved them over onto their sides and fumbled at his waist. Gibbs felt the ties around his wrists fall away. The pain of circulation returning made him suck in his breath, but the relief to his muscles was sweet.

One by one, DiNozzo unfastened the sweat-sodden strips of cloth that bound them together, and Gibbs sagged back against the ground. DiNozzo rolled on to his stomach again and lay prone, face pressed sideways against the earth, chest heaving. The release from the enforced physical closeness left both men limp.

Tony raised his head. "Never … thought … I'd say this, boss", he got out, "but I really wish … you'd lose some weight". He grinned at Gibbs' glare and let his head drop back.

"Tony".

"Boss?" DiNozzo's head came up again.

"Just …"

DiNozzo nodded and tapped Gibbs' arm, and Gibbs knew he'd understood.

They lay a bit longer, gathering strength. Then DiNozzo rolled over."Got to find some cover, Boss". His eyes, narrowed against the glare of the sun, searched the area around them.

"Over there!"

Gibbs' eyes followed his pointing hand. They were on some sort of none too wide plateau. Off to their left the ground rose steeply again, pocked here and there with freestanding rock formations of various dimensions. Between one such jutting formation and the next upward stretch of the canyon wall, not far up from where the ground rose again, was what looked to be a small cave.

"No", Gibbs said. "Too obvious. They come after us here, they'll see it straight off".

"You need to rest till that drug thing wears off", DiNozzo said. "Hell, I need to rest. Not to mention you've been shot. We'll hear them coming if they climb the cliff. Plenty of time to get moving before they make it up here".

Gibbs had to admit, he did need to rest. He could only guess at how DiNozzo felt.

DiNozzo wasn't about to let him argue anyway. He scrambled to his feet, picked up Gibbs in a fireman's lift again and headed at a staggering run for the opening in the rock face. Dumping Gibbs unceremoniously but gently on the ground below it, he scrambled up a couple of feet to the cave entrance and checked it out for wildlife.

Nothing. Sliding back out, he half-hauled, half-shoved Gibbs into the narrow gap. Not before time, either, as shouts across the river below told them others had found their trail. He cursed himself for not hiding the water bottle better.

DiNozzo jumped from the cave and grabbed some of the scattered brushwood lying about. Praying that no spark from the still burning fire blew their way, he crawled back inside and, turning, pulled it as best he could across the opening .


	10. Chapter 10

Once he was sure they were hidden for the moment, DiNozzo turned his attention to Gibbs. Hunkering down on his heels, he propped his boss up against the wall and ripped open his shirt to check his arm.

Gibbs winced as the makeshift bandage was unwound, but made no protest against the inspection. That in itself was enough to worry DiNozzo. His boss looked sideways at him, his face impassive, as Tony steadied his shoulders against the wall to stop him slipping sideways.

The wound was a straightforward through and through, but faint red streaks beginning to appear around it did nothing to ease DiNozzo's mind. Maybe their worst enemy wasn't outside.

He made Gibbs as comfortable as he could, relieved to see small signs of returning muscle tone. Gibbs' own water bottle, half full, was still attached by a clip to his belt. He held it to Gibbs' mouth.

Gibbs turned his head to the side while some of the water still remained. He jerked his head at DiNozzo: _drink the rest_.

DiNozzo shook his head. "C'mon, boss, drink it all. You need it more than I do".

Gibbs' eyebrow muscles might not have been working too well, but his eyes could still manage The Glare. "Drink it yourself, DiNozzo".

DiNozzo took a sip. Water had never tasted so good. Then he turned back to Gibbs.

Gibbs husked, "I said drink the water, DiNozzo, not sip it! You need … ah, hell!" DiNozzo poured what remained in the bottle over the wound in Gibbs' arm.

"Smack me later, boss, you need it more". A grin played across his dirt-streaked face. "One good thing about this, you can't …" He cut himself off as Gibbs' glare reached industrial strength and filed it away to tell Abby when next he saw her.

Assuming he did see her … the thought wouldn't be silenced, though he booted it straight back out the door of his mind.

"You want to sleep?" Gibbs' eyes were closing. DiNozzo laid him down on the ground and began to pull off his boots. Gibbs was asleep before he'd finished.

Damn, DiNozzo thought enviously, the boss always could sleep anywhere. Not that he'd have any trouble himself right now. He listened at the cave entrance, checked that the brush covering was secure, then settled himself a few feet away from Gibbs and despite his best intentions fell straight into a dreamless sleep.

When he awoke, the sun had set and the cave was even darker. Down in the canyon the noise of pursuit had faded, but the silence brought DiNozzo no comfort. He felt around for the reassuring hardness of his Sig, then slipped back into sleep.

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

DiNozzo jerked awake, not sure what had woken him. He rolled on one side, his hand automatically shooting out to what would have been his bedside table drawer for the gun that would have been there if he'd been home.

Then he remembered, and froze, senses straining to identify the source of the threat in the pitch black cave. He felt for the Sig on the ground beside him.

Something close at hand was making a low, rapid tapping.

Gibbs' teeth, chattering.

Relaxing, DiNozzo wriggled closer to Gibbs and stretched out his hand until it touched the other man. Gibbs was shaking with cold. The night air, or as much of it as could penetrate into the cave, was surprisingly chill after the heat of the night before, but it was more than that. Gibbs' skin felt hot to DiNozzo's touch. He muttered restlessly, indistinct words that Tony didn't catch, and shifted in his sleep.

Gibbs could move again, DiNozzo realised. He shifted closer and hesitated, debating what to do. Only one thing he could do, really.

Gibbs wasn't one for physical contact, not with his subordinates at any rate. Nor, for that matter, did the idea of cuddling up to his boss enthuse DiNozzo himself.

But Gibbs was ill and he was the only one there, so he rolled to lie beside him, pressing the length of his body against Gibbs, warming him with his own body heat. He slung an arm across Gibbs' waist to keep him close. With a bit of luck, his boss would never know.

Gibbs seemed to relax a little at the contact, but still his teeth chattered.

A rock dug into DiNozzo's shoulder, and he shifted slightly to avoid it. Gibbs stirred at the movement and flung out an arm, then settled back into his cold hell.

Half an hour passed. Then, "You're blowing in my ear, DiNozzo". The voice was unmistakably Gibbs' usual tone, even through the shivering.

DiNozzo's head shot up and he stared at Gibbs, but the other man's eyes remained fast closed.

He had no idea how long they lay like that. He only knew that when at length the shivering stopped and Gibbs' teeth stopped chattering, his boss slipped into some sort of natural sleep.

He stayed where he was until he was sure he was no longer needed, removing himself unobtrusively as Gibbs sighed in his sleep and sought a more comfortable position on the hard ground.

He was pretty sure Gibbs hadn' t registered his presence, though when he thought about it, he was equally sure that Gibbs would take it in his stride. Embarrassment wasn't a word in his vocabulary when something needed to be done.

DiNozzo couldn't say the same about himself. He really hoped he'd dreamed that comment about ears.

Still thinking about it, he rolled back to his original position a few feet away and fell back into a deep sleep of his own.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

A bug crawled across DiNozzo's neck. He frowned, mumbled and scratched at his skin. Jerking awake as his fingers encountered the bug, he flung it from him into the grey dawn light filtering through the brush screen. For a second or two he lay disoriented, until he registered where he was.

"Gibbs!" A quiet exploratory hiss in the direction of the hunched figure lying deeper in the little cave brought no response. DiNozzo listened, straining his ears until they caught the sound of the other man's breathing .

He relaxed a little. The boss was strong. He'd come through the rest of the night without incident.

But still … He raised himself on one elbow and scanned Gibbs with worried eyes. They needed water, they'd been too long without it. But with the bottle empty, the only source was the river below.

_Damn_.

Every muscle protesting, DiNozzo sat up, wrinkling his nose at the stench of his sweat-soaked clothes. He let himself dream for a moment of the long hot shower he'd take when they got back, then gave himself a mental shake.

The trick, of course, was to get back. They still had the rest of the rock face to climb. But first, Gibbs needed water.

_Time to get moving, Anthony._

Shutting the pain of movement into a locked room in his mind, he moved silently towards the mouth of the cave and cautiously parted the branches.

The little plateau was empty of all except a startled bird or two. DiNozzo crawled out of the cave and wriggled on his stomach over to the edge. No sign of movement in the valley below. He scanned the trees, trusting his excellent vision to pick up any sign of human life. Nothing.

Too early? With a bit of luck, it could be an hour or so before Spurling's men came after them again.

Wriggling his way back into the cave, he checked on Gibbs. Still out to it, and likely to be for some time, judging by the faint snores. He squatted by Gibbs' sleeping form a moment, irresolute, not wanting to leave him. But there was no other way.

The ground was too hard to scrawl a message, so he broke some small twigs off the brush at the entrance and formed them into the word "water" as a message in case Gibbs woke.

Then he picked up the empty water bottle, jammed it into the waistband of what remained of his jeans, and scrambled out of the cave to head down to the river.


	11. Chapter 11

Gibbs opened his eyes. He'd been awake a few minutes, sifting the evidence of his other senses for danger and finding none. So far as he could tell, the cave remained secure.

He turned his head, pleased to find himself able to do so. An experimental flex of his fingers and legs confirmed that muscle tone had returned. Ducky had been right about the temporary relapse, but the worst, it seemed, was over.

Not so the thirst. He ran his tongue over dry lips, his parched throat protesting. They needed to find water, and soon. DiNozzo had … where the hell was DiNozzo?

Gibbs half-wriggled, half-rolled to the cave entry and pulled back some of the brush. The sun was high in the sky. He made it about two p.m. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck and he felt a dull throbbing from the wound in his arm.

The heat had returned with a vengeance, and his thirst tormented him. But the smell of smoke, at least, seemed to have gone. That meant the fire was out.

He looked around and saw the rough message spelled out in twigs. Water. DiNozzo had gone for water. But how long ago?

_How could __I__ have slept so long?_ He berated himself for the time they'd lost. Spurling and the others could have …

Even to Gibbs' supersensitive ears, though, the valley seemed quiet. No shots, no curses, nobody crashing through the undergrowth. He relaxed a little and settled back to wait for DiNozzo.

Half an hour later he started to worry. He eased himself out of the cave. No sign of Tony on the little plateau or further up the rock face. Gibbs was confident he wouldn't have left him without a good reason. DiNozzo didn't leave people, he always had their backs. When it counted, he was always there.

He'd gone for water. That meant the river below. He'd have had to climb down the rock face they'd come up yesterday, get to the river undetected and then climb back up to the cave again.

Assuming he'd had the energy. Gibbs had felt the tremors running through DiNozzo's muscles yesterday as he'd hauled them to higher ground. If his own impressive aches today were anything to go by, DiNozzo's had to be a dozen times worse. Even if he was quite a bit younger, Gibbs thought wryly, massaging a particularly painful strain in his shoulder.

He slipped his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. Nothing. Maybe the GPS tracker thingy would work, though. He left the phone on and shoved it back in his pocket.

Had DiNozzo slipped and fallen? Was he lying injured at the base of the rock face? Tony was a fine athlete, Gibbs knew, but everyone had their limits.

He was easing himself out of the cave entrance when he heard the voice, echoing up from the floor of the canyon. He recognised it at once. Spurling.

"Gibbs! You here? Oh, come on now, Agent Gibbs, I know you're here somewhere".

DiNozzo! The thought sent Gibbs wriggling on his stomach towards the edge of the rockface. Before he could reach it and risk peering down into the valley, his worst fear was confirmed.

"I've got your man, Gibbs, had him since daybreak. He was good, I have to give him that - nearly missed him, but my boys picked him up in the end".

Silence. Gibbs lay still. After a while the voice continued, "Guess you're pretty thirsty by now. Not that that itty-bitty bottle DiNozzo had would have done you much good".

Gibbs despised himself for his body's involuntary reaction to the mention of water.

More silence. Then, "Oh, come on out, Agent Gibbs, don't spoil my fun. DiNozzo here wasn't pleased to see me, wouldn't play at all. Don't you worry, though, I haven't laid a hand on him this time, it's just too hot for heavy work. The sun can do it for me. Don't suppose it'll take too much longer at this rate".

Gibbs crawled to a spot well away from where he and DiNozzo had reached the plateau the day before. Carefully, from behind a pile of rocks, he squinted down at the canyon floor.

DiNozzo, naked and spread-eagled, was staked out on the earth just short of the river's sandy bank. Even from that height Gibbs could see the angry red of his sunburned skin. He closed his eyes in sympathy, then forced himself to concentrate on Spurling.

Spurling stood near DiNozzo, his hands cupped like a megaphone as he swivelled his neck in different directions. He didn't look up at all; clearly he thought Gibbs was somewhere in the canyon. A second man sat in the shade of a tree, mopping the sweat off his face with a crumpled rag.

"Time to turn him again, Gibbs, just like steak on a griddle. I've already cooked his back once. He wouldn't tell me, you see, wouldn't tell me where you are. Foolish of him".

Spurling dropped his hands and snapped out a command to the other man. Together, they untied the ropes tethering Tony to pegs driven into the earth and roughly flipped him on to his stomach. Gibbs' keen hearing picked up Tony's stifled moan as he turned his head sideways, spitting dust out of his mouth.

Spurling hadn't lied, Gibbs could see. DiNozzo's back was an angrier red than his front had been. Gibbs' gut clenched.

"I particularly want to see you, Agent Gibbs. Last time we met you tried to choke me". A note of anger, controlled but definitely there, now underlay the urbane voice. "Now that's no way to treat a gentleman, in my book".

Down in the canyon, Spurling squatted down near DiNozzo's head. "Don't take this personally, Agent DiNozzo. I like you, I really do".

He reached out a hand and stroked DiNozzo's hair. Tony jerked away from the touch, and Spurling twined his fingers casually in his hair and jerked his head up viciously.

"You've got guts, and that's always good. But I'm not big on humiliation, mine, I mean, so I can't let you and Gibbs get away with what you did. I was a geek at high school, did you know that?"

_That's no surprise, __dirtbag_, DiNozzo's eyes said.

"I've got years of humiliation to pay back", Spurling's voice took on an almost caressing tone, "and all the time in the world to do it. Beaten up at lunchtime, no clean clothes, no muscles, just a small skinny kid. The jocks zeroed in on me like sharks. Bet you were a jock yourself, right?"

He stood up, shaded his eyes with his hand and yelled "Gibbs! You coming out?"

Unwilling to give away his position, Gibbs said nothing. Spurling waited a moment, then stooped and picked up a dead branch.

"One last chance, Agent Gibbs".

Silence. Spurling shrugged. Raising the branch high in the air, he slashed it down across DiNozzo's scarlet back. Gibbs closed his eyes as the scream echoed round the canyon walls.


	12. Chapter 12

Still holding the branch in one hand, Spurling took a cell phone out of his pocket with the other and shook it open. He peered at the screen, then shook his head in exasperation.

"Gates!" The other man looked up. "Keep an eye on our friend here, I'm going to see if I can get some reception. Wouldn't want to keep Baker waiting for his report". He threw the branch away and headed off down the river bank.

Gates hauled himself unwillingly to his feet. He slouched over to DiNozzo and toed him viciously, then, enjoying Tony's reaction, picked up the branch Spurling had let drop and began to lay on with it.

Something about the way he stood, unsteady on his feet, told Gibbs he was high on something. His guess was confirmed when Gates began to hurl a barrage of garbled insults at the man on the ground at his feet.

Gibbs' gut tightened as he heard the branch come down viciously again and again, but he forced himself to concentrate. Gates was unfocused; Gibbs was not. He could use that to his advantage.

He wriggled further along the plateau until he found what he was after, a sizable clump of bushes directly below him on the canyon floor. Big enough that their foliage would shake and rustle when he dropped a shower of pebbles down on them, which he then proceeded to do.

Gates was still having fun with DiNozzo, but at the sound from the bushes his head snapped up and a feral grin spread across his face. Taking out his gun, none too steady on his feet, he headed towards the bushes in what he obviously thought was a stealthy manner.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are". The sneer would have sounded more menacing if it hadn't been so slurred. "I know …"

Whatever Gates knew was cut off by a sickening thud as the large rock Gibbs dropped on him landed on his head. He dropped to the ground and lay unmoving, blood beginning to stream from the wreckage of his skull.

Gibbs stared down at his handiwork for a couple of seconds, then began to examine the rock face below him, looking for the easiest way down. He hoped his muscles were up to it. The bad arm would just have to do. He pushed aside the little voice that told him he was a fool to try.

He was within an inch of beginning his descent when Spurling and two other men walked up the river bank and into the canyon. Gibbs drew back from the edge and waited to hear what would happen next.

It wasn't long in coming.

"No reception anywhere, Baker will … Gates!" Spurling shouted. "I thought I told you to … GATES!!!"

Gibbs risked a peek over the edge. Spurling was standing beside DiNozzo, his eyes raking the canyon. He dropped into a crouch, gun in hand, and motioned the others to spread out and search.

Gibbs waited.

A shout from the clump of bushes told him they'd found Gates. It was instantly clear what had happened.

Spurling's head shot up and he scanned the rim of the plateau.

"Gibbs! I know you're up there now, Agent Gibbs. Very clever dropping the rock on poor old Gates here, but you gave away your position".

Gibbs said nothing. By now, NCIS would have called in help from the Navy for a search. It wouldn't be much longer till reinforcements arrived.

"I want you down here now, Agent Gibbs". Spurling waited. Nothing moved in the canyon except the two men carrying Gates' body back to the river bank. One of them muttered a curse as he stumbled and slipped on a smooth rock embedded in the earth, and for a moment the body dragged along the ground.

Silence.

"I'm a patient man, Agent Gibbs, but right now I'm in a hurry and the big city's calling. Throw down your gun, if you have one, and come down now".

Only the insects moved on the plateau.

"All right then, if that's the way you want it. Contarino, Muller, come here, I've got a job for you". Spurling motioned the men to his side and pointed to DiNozzo. "Put him in with Gates where the sun don't shine".

Contarino and Muller turned and headed for the river bank. Using whatever dead branches they could find, they began to scoop out a shallow grave in the soft sand. It didn't take them long.

"I guess that's it, then, Agent Gibbs", Spurling shouted. "Your man, your call. Too bad you didn't make the right one, for him, that is".

Contarino and Muller carried Gates' body to the grave and laid it flat on the bottom. Then they advanced on the now only semi-conscious DiNozzo and cut him free.

For a wild moment Gibbs thought they were releasing him, but Muller picked him up and slung him over his shoulder and headed back to the river bank. They dumped DiNozzo unceremoniously into the grave face down on top of Gates and began to fill it in. Within minutes the sand on the river bank was level again.

Gibbs had no chance of getting to DiNozzo in time, even if he could make it down the cliff unharmed.


	13. Chapter 13

The sound of dislodged pebbles rattling down to the canyon brought Gibbs' attention instantly back from the scene below. Someone was on the rock face.

While he'd been transfixed by the drama unfolding at the grave, Spurling had begun to climb. From the sound of it, he was making better time than DiNozzo had with Gibbs on his back the previous day.

_He thinks I'm out of action_, Gibbs realised. _Only DiNozzo came down for water, he thinks I can't __get__about__. That's why he's not worried about climbing. Gates should have taught him better, though. _

An overpowering rage swept over Gibbs as he drew back and considered his options. To drop a rock on Spurling as he had on Gates would mean leaning out over the cliff and exposing himself to the guns of the other two, who now sat on top of the makeshift grave, their eyes scanning the plateau, covering Spurling.

Gibbs stiffened as he looked back down into the canyon. He could have sworn he'd seen a rustling in the trees about thirty feet down the river bank behind Muller and Contarino. Nothing there, though, probably the wind. Except that today there was no wind.

He turned to consider the more immediate threat. From the sounds of his ascent, Spurling was about halfway up. Gibbs looked around for a rock to throw at him when his head poked above the rim.

Spurling shouted something to the men in the canyon below.

Muller and Contarino leaped to their feet and turned to look in the direction their boss was obviously gesturing. Gibbs' eyes followed their own.

A plume of smoke, contained, straight, definitely of human origin, rose high into the air behind them. Someone had set a signal fire for the searchers.

Without warning a gun barked two, three, four, five times and Muller and Contarino slumped to the ground, dropping their weapons as they fell.

Gibbs strained to make out what was happening. He risked another glance below.

McGee, his face swollen and distorted from poison ivy, burst from the cover of the trees and raced to where Muller and Contarino lay across the grave, tossing their guns into the river and shoving their bodies out of the way. He scrabbled frantically at the sand, which yielded easily beneath the onslaught.

First the boiled-lobster skin of Dinozzo's back appeared, then his shoulders, then his head. He lay with his face pressed into Gates' shirt. McGee grabbed his shoulders and turned him none too gently face up.

A bullet whined past McGee's ear and embedded itself in the dirt.

Gibbs tore his attention away from McGee. The shot could only have come from Spurling. _Damn, but he'__s__ made good time._ Ten feet away from where he crouched behind an outcrop, Gibbs saw an arm crooked over the lip of the plateau as Spurling, balanced on a precarious foothold near the top, turned to fire down at McGee again. His head swivelled between the top of the plateau, searching for Gibbs, and the canyon below.

Gibbs saw McGee scramble to one knee and fire his last bullet up at the cliff wall, missing his target. McGee scrabbled for his extra clip, dropping it in his haste. Realising he had no time, he rolled away from where he'd been kneeling and threw himself on top of DiNozzo as Spurling took aim again.

In that split second of inattention, his finger tightening on the trigger, Spurling hardly seemed to register the tap on his other arm. His head turned and he stared almost quizzically into Gibbs' eyes as Gibbs said quietly but with intense conviction, "Happy landings, dirtbag" and pushed him off the cliff.

It was quite a way down. McGee turned his head away from the sound of Spurling's happy landing. Only a minute or so more and the roar of the helos following the river towards his fire would have drowned it out.

NCIS NCISNCISNCIS

Everything seemed to happen very quickly after that.

Shouts not far away along the river heralded the arrival of Kate with Marchetti's team. Kate spotted McGee holding the naked, sand-covered Tony at the same time Marchetti spotted Gibbs waving from the rim of the plateau. Other agents fanned out to ensure the canyon was secure, then turned their attention to the bodies of Muller and Contarino.

For Tony DiNozzo, it all passed in a blur. He was vaguely aware that someone's arms were pressing painfully against his sunburnt skin, but the pounding in his head and a sudden rush of choking nausea made him reluctant to try to move away.

He stirred and muttered something. The arms tightened.

"I've got you, Tony, I've got you, man". McGee's voice. McGeek? Holding him? Something wasn't right here, but he felt too disoriented to figure out what it was.

There it was again, the voice. "It's OK, I've got you. You're safe". He felt a tentative hand smoothing his hair out of his eyes. The touch felt good.

He let his head loll back against someone's shoulder. Sunburnt eyelids beginning to swell, he squinted up at McGee, seeing him through a haze. "Probie? That you?"

McGee nodded. "Yeah, Tony, it's me. Try not to remember this later". His hands twitched as he resisted the urge to scratch his poison ivy itches. He could feel the heat of Tony's skin through his shirt.

Tony winced as McGee shifted his position.

"Am I hurting you? Sorry, I didn't mean …" McGee began to lower the other man as gently as he could to the ground, then stopped in surprise. DiNozzo was unmistakably clutching the front of McGee's shirt, holding on to him.

McGee froze, not sure what to do. Tony's eyes were closed, but he seemed not to want the physical contact to end, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Not surprising, McGee supposed, his face as red with embarrassment as DiNozzo's sunburned flesh, given that he'd been buried alive. He held DiNozzo still where he was.

It lasted only a few seconds. Then DiNozzo heaved a long sigh and relaxed his grip on McGee's shirt, allowing himself to be laid on the ground. His face contorted as his seared skin touched the earth.

"Probie … help me get …" Tony raised his head and gestured.

McGee turned him gently on his side, trying not to hurt him. DiNozzo sighed with relief as his back lost contact with the ground. McGee echoed the sigh as he was freed at last to scratch.

Off to the left, Gibbs was coming down the rock face in a harness on ropes paid out by Saunders and O'Connell.

McGee glanced up as Kate reached them, all too conscious of the royal bollocking she no doubt had in store for him. She scowled at him, then turned her attention to Tony, screwing up her face in horror at the sight of his sunburn.

"Ah, Kate …"

"WHAT, McGee?!!!" To Tony, her voice sounded far away.

"I don't think Tony would …well, that he'd want you to see him like this".

"You mean naked? Relax, McGee. I've seen him that way before". She had? Surely he couldn't have forgotten – then a memory of himself naked, brandishing his gun at an invading iguana in Gitmo, flashed through DiNozzo's mind.

"You have?" McGee stopped scratching for a second.

"Need to know, McGee", she teased him, momentarily dropping the scowl. "Don't worry, it was just a passing nightmare".

"Admit it, Katie, you've prayed for it back ever since", DiNozzo croaked.

McGee, just as thankful to be rid of his prickling shirt, took it off and settled it gently over him. He brushed some of the sand out of DiNozzo's hair, half expecting a rebuke, but none came.

Gibbs arrived at their side. "DiNozzo, you OK?"

"Fine, Boss". Tony squinted up at him. "The probie here dug me out pretty quick. Good thing I had my face pressed up against the other guy, the dirt stayed out of my mouth and nose".

Gibbs looked him over. DiNozzo was clearly in pain, but that wasn't the whole of it. He knew Tony well enough to guess that two separate emotions were fighting it out under the studied calm. Embarrassment at being seen naked, clutching McGee, admitting for a moment to vulnerability, and repressed horror at those seemingly endless moments under the ground. Gibbs could see it in his eyes and in the determined set of his mouth.

Ducky, as yet uninformed of the whole situation, walked up the river bank carrying his medical bag and plonked it down beside Gibbs. "It seems I can't let you two out of my sight for a moment. Jethro, I hear you've been shot, let me look at your arm". He took off the ragged bandage, grimacing at its condition, and examined the wound as Kate squatted to talk to DiNozzo.

Taking a syringe from his bag, he injected something into Gibbs' arm. "That should take care of infection in the short term. Have you had any more trouble with ..."

Gibbs waved him aside. "Not me, Duck. Take a look at DiNozzo here".

"Oh, my dear boy!" Ducky sounded almost awed as he bent to look at Tony. "That's a very impressive sunburn. I don't think I've ever seen one quite so … " His face changed. "And by the look of you, you're developing quite a case of sunstroke. Timothy! Take that shirt and soak it in the river, then bring it back here, quicksticks".

Tony giggled, a sound quite unlike his usual laugh. "Quicksticks, Ducky? What the heck are quicksticks?" His voice sounded odd.

Ducky peered at him and clucked his tongue. He turned and shouted to the agents working nearby. "Help me get this man into the shade NOW … no, not you, Jethro, sit down. Heatstroke's a dangerous thing - we've got to get his temperature down before he convulses". He turned back to Tony and said, "It's going to hurt, my boy, I'm sorry".

"It's OK, Duck", DiNozzo said, "Couldn't hurt more than McGee's buttons did. Remind me to buy him some Velcro next time".

Ducky laughed and ruffled Tony's hair. "Oh, you're just complaining because you're embarrassed. It's not every day you get a cuddle from a probie". DiNozzo rolled his eyes.

Two agents picked DiNozzo up by his hands and feet, careful not to scrape his back against the ground, and carried him as gently as they could into the shade of the trees. Kate looked the other way, giving him some privacy.

McGee ran back up from the river with his dripping shirt and draped it over as much of Tony as it would cover. At Ducky's barked command, the other agents shed their shirts, soaked them in the river and did the same.

Ducky watched Tony carefully for five minutes, then said with relief, "It's working, I think, but we've got to get him to hospital. We need a medivac, and soon". As he spoke, he took another syringe from his bag, filled it from a small vial and swabbed Tony's arm before injecting it. "This should take the edge off the pain".

DiNozzo gasped as the cool swab touched his burnt skin. "Thanks, Duck. You got any more of those swabs? A sheet's worth, maybe?" Somewhere off over his head he could hear Gibbs talking into Marchetti's radio, ordering up the medivac.

Ducky reached out to pat his shoulder but remembered in time and withdrew his hand. "I'm afraid they wouldn't help, Anthony. Just lie there and let the morphine take hold. We'll have you out of here soon".

Tony did as instructed. Around him, agents were working the canyon as a crime scene, snapping pictures and taking measurements, Kate now among them.

McGee was hovering close by, looking uncertain. "Hey!" He jumped as Gibbs called out to him. "Go help Marchetti". A relieved smile broke over his face and he set off at a run.

Gibbs watched him go, a half smile on his face. McGee had many talents, but interaction with others wasn't high on the list. He'd yet to explain what the hell he was doing here, but his actions had saved the day, no doubt about that.

Gibbs lowered himself to the ground next to DiNozzo, for once content to let others take the weight. Descending the canyon wall had taxed him more than he cared to admit. At Ducky's insistent questioning he told him what had happened to his muscles but impatiently refused further examination.

"I'm in rude health, Duck, rude health". Health didn't get any ruder than Gibbs at his best.

DiNozzo was obscurely comforted by the quiet presence beside him. _Funny, though_, he thought before the world faded to black, _I could have sworn the boss was asleep last night_.


	14. Chapter 14

"And that's how we found you. Good thing McGee was a boy scout, even if you weren't", Kate finished, offering Tony a grape. He reached down to take it. She was sitting on his sofa, but he could only stand – the blisters on his back and front were too painful for anything else. Sleeping was going to be his biggest challenge.

Naked was good. He'd spent the whole day that way until Kate had arrived and he'd hurriedly wrapped a towel around his waist.

With part of his mind he wished his visitor gone so he could get into one of the warm showers that gave him such relief. In addition to the bruises and welts the branch had left on his back, his skin was beginning to peel. Great, now he looked like some sort of reptile. Crocodile shoes were one thing; crocodile DiNozzo quite another.

Two days in hospital, then today at home. So far it had been a day of aspirin, cold compresses, warm showers and liberal applications of soothing aerosol sprays, which had done something to improve the condition of his body, if not of his mind.

The embarrassment was almost worse than the pain. He didn't know which was worst – that Gibbs might have known he was holding him that night in the cave, that he'd clung to the probie for a moment out of sheer need, or that Kate and the others had seen him naked and nearly out of his mind with pain. _Just shoot me now_he'd thought when he came to in the hospital and memory came flooding back.

Kate and McGee hadn't rubbed it in, though, he had to give them that. He didn't know if he could have resisted it himself. There'd been an embarrassed silence between himself and McGee the first time they'd seen each other after the sunstroke wore off, until he'd simply reached out his hand to shake McGee's and said, "Thanks, Tim". McGee had shaken back.

"So Marchetti led you in?" he asked, gratefully inflicting a horrible death on the cool grape. She'd brought a few more cans of sunburn spray too, Solarcaine, aloe vera, Ice; his rubbish bin was filling up with empties.

"Sure", Kate said. "He's been looking for a way to make good his gaffe with Wilson, and I guess he finally found it. Gibbs told him he did well".

"Good. How did he find us?" Too late, he realised the answer.

"Well, now, let me see, Tony, maybe it was McGee's signal fire, do you think? Not to mention the sound of gunfire and the helos circling above".

"Well, I know that, Katie …" He dropped the sarcasm and grinned ruefully at her, dropping his guard for a moment. "I guess my head's still out there somewhere".

She didn't press the point, just smiled at him. "Has McGee been by today?"

"Yeah, he was here this morning. Brought me a present". He indicated the other bag of aerosols sitting on the table. Kate laughed.

Then she turned serious. "He saved your life, you know. If he hadn't stayed behind …"

"What did Gibbs have to say about that? Bet it wasn't pretty".

"It wasn't. I was there". Kate had almost felt sorry for McGee as Gibbs tore strip after strip off him and ordered him to the gym to practice rope ladder climbing every morning for the next month, day off or not. That was right after he'd commended him on a job well done in the canyon.

"You're right, though, he did save my life. Wasn't for him, I'd be rotting alongside old Gates up there in the canyon". His face darkened as he thought about it. "I'll make it worth his while".

Kate burst out laughing. "Whose? McGee's? What are you going to do, Tony, learn his Elflord game, let him make mincemeat of you online every day?"

"I'll think of something".

"Jus t give him a break from the torture at work for a while, why don't you?"

"What, and lose my reason for living?" He grinned at her.

She looked at him, her face suddenly pensive. "How do you do it, Tony?"

"Do what?"

"Laugh and joke after what you've just been through? I'd be shattered".

"It's a DiNozzo thing, Katie, we're known for our resilience". No need for her to know about the nightmares. No need for anyone to know.

The doorbell rang and DiNozzo went to answer it. Gibbs and Ducky stepped inside, each carrying a bag of aerosol sprays. Kate and Tony burst out laughing.

"I see you came prepared", Kate said, reaching for her handbag. "Maybe you can put them on for him. I'll leave you to it, see you tomorrow". She wiggled her fingers at them as she headed for the door. Ducky bowed slightly as she passed.

He circled around behind DiNozzo, checking his back as Gibbs sat down on the sofa. "That's not a bad idea, Tony. How long since you sprayed yourself?"

"Couple of hours, maybe more, but you know, Duck, I can do that for myself, thanks".

"I'm perfectly well aware of that, Anthony", Ducky retorted. "I'm also perfectly well aware that if I don't stand over you, you won't do it. Admit it, it's too hard to reach your back without twisting yourself and that's bound to be painful in your present condition. Is it hurting much again?"

Tony shrugged. "Some".

"That settles it, then", Ducky said. "Drop the towel and don't give me any more lip about it! Jethro, take a can."

Gibbs' mouth twitched in what might have been a grin at the same moment that DiNozzo protested "No way!", eyeing him with undisguised horror. He rose from the sofa and reached for a can. "Hell, Duck, Tony here and I haven't been married that long". No mistaking the grin now.

_Damn_, DiNozzo thought, _he __really __was awake in that cave_.

"Come on, DiNozzo, let's get it over with. You're the doctor, Duck, you take the front! I'll do his back".

"Right", DiNozzo said resignedly. He fixed his eyes on a point straight ahead and let the towel fall away.

Five minutes later, he'd been comprehensively sprayed and thought he might just survive the embarrassment. He had to admit he felt better.

"Thanks … I think". He took the towel Ducky handed back to him and wrapped it around himself. "How about a beer?"

"You really should be back in hospital, you know, Tony", Ducky said, refusing the beer in favour of a large Scotch. Gibbs propped himself against the kitchen counter with a long-neck. "It's probably the only way you'll get some sleep, at least till you can lie flat again without medication".

"No way, Ducky", DiNozzo was quick to respond. "I've had enough of people poking me. The last couple of days were bad enough".

"Really, Anthony, the term is probe, not poke", Ducky said in a tone of mock severity. "We doctors have our pride, you know. Anyone can poke, it takes a long time to learn to probe".

Tony wiggled his eyebrows and said with equally mock contrition, "Sorry, Ducky, I'll try to remember that". They grinned at each other.

Gibbs broke it up. "Poke, probe, what's the difference. The point is, DiNozzo, you need some help", he raised a threatening hand to cut off Tony's protest, "whether you want to admit it or not".

DiNozzo mimed extreme frailty. "You wouldn't headslap a sick man, would you, Boss?"

"Don't tempt me", Gibbs growled. "I'll stay with him here, Duck, if you think he needs someone with him. I saw a lot of sunburn in Iraq".

DiNozzo shifted nervously. "Look, Gibbs, you really don't have to …"

"One-time only offer, DiNozzo. Beats going back to hospital".

"Don't you have to go to work?" DiNozzo grasped at a straw.

"I'm on half time for two weeks. Something some interfering medic said to the Director about possible further relapses". Gibbs glared at Ducky. He'd had no further problems, but the Director had been adamant.

"Well, but it's a good idea, Jethro, if you stay here for a day or two. You can keep an eye on each other". Ducky laughed as both men snorted in unison. "I'd like to be a fly on the wall, I must say. But … duty calls". He jerked his head in DiNozzo's direction. "Make sure he drinks a lot of water, he needs to rehydrate".

Gibbs nodded. "I'll walk you to your car, Duck. Have to head home to get some gear anyway". They left DiNozzo's apartment together, leaving Tony to think about Gibbs as a houseguest.

On the street, Ducky reached down to unlock the door of his Morgan. "And by the way, Jethro", he lowered his voice, "it's not just the sunburn you should be looking out for".

"I know that, Duck", Gibbs' voice was laconic.

"Good", Ducky said, and dropped the subject. DiNozzo had suffered nightmares for months after his last encounter with Spurling.

With Gibbs there, this time might not be so bad.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's note: this is the final chapter. Thanks for all your interest and reviews; I hope you've enjoyed the ride.

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"Well, how is he, Jethro?" Twenty-four hours later, Ducky grabbed at his cell phone as it slipped from his grasp and restored it to his ear. "Does he need a home visit? I'm leaving now, I could call in". He pushed the elevator button with his other hand as he spoke.

"Oh, he's fine, Duck", Gibbs said. "Don't think he's slept much, though, I found him trying to sleep standing up with his head against the wall. Didn't work for all that long". No more than a few long seconds. Gibbs had caught him as he fell, to be rewarded with a shout of pain as DiNozzo's sunburned skin rebelled against the touch.

"No sleep means no nightmares, at least", Ducky said, stepping into the elevator. "His skin will heal, it's his mind I'm concerned about".

"DiNozzo's tough, Ducky. And resilient. You know as well as I do, he bounces back in the end". Gibbs kept an ear out for the sound of DiNozzo's shower stopping.

"In the end, yes, but how many times can he do it? Nearly drowned last year, staked out and then buried alive now … it's got to take a toll".

"He'll be fine, Duck, just give it time. He's an ex-cop and a highly trained special agent. He can handle it".

"Yes, well, I hope you're right". Ducky didn't sound at all convinced. "Is he talking about it?"

"He's not talking about anything much at all. Pretty quiet, actually".

"That's not good at all", Ducky fretted. "Does he seem depressed?"

"How the hell would I know, Duck? He's quiet, that's all". Not much of the usual banter. Gibbs had been almost bored.

"Try to get him to open up to you, Jethro. It's important that he talks about it, and you know Anthony, he won't seek help unless he's ordered to". Gibbs heard the elevator ping again on the other end of the phone as Ducky stepped out and headed for the carpark.

""What makes you think he'd talk to me, Duck? Come to that, what makes you think I'd want him to?"

The silence on the other end of the phone spoke volumes.

"C'mon. Duck, you know I don't do that personal stuff. Never have, don't see any reason to start now".

"Ah, but you did once before, didn't you", Ducky reminded him, "and it didn't hurt your working relationship at all, now did it?"

"No", Gibbs had to admit, thinking back, "no, it didn't". Hell, if anything it made it stronger. DiNozzo had never taken advantage either of the personal information Gibbs had shared with him after the first Baker operation had gone so wrong or of the fact that Gibbs had shared it with him. Ducky had been right about that at the time.

"Well, then", Ducky said, "do you think you're any less trustworthy than Anthony? Be direct, Jethro, just ask him straight out".

In the bathroom, the shower stopped. Gibbs heard the glass door slide open.

"I'll see what happens, Duck. That's all I can do".

Gibbs slid his cell phone shut without saying goodbye and turned to find DiNozzo coming out of the bathroom, towel around his waist. He'd given up going naked when Gibbs moved in. He went into his bedroom and shut the door.

All through dinner Gibbs turned over in his mind what Ducky had said. DiNozzo seemed fine, making easy conversation for once as he walked about eating his meal, but his voice had an edge to it that made it sound a little forced. _Or am I imagining __things_ Gibbs wondered.

Later that night, he woke and went to check on the patient. Nowhere. Not in his bedroom, not in the kitchen. Eventually Gibbs spotted him out on the balcony, one foot up on the middle railing, arms resting carefully on the top one.

"Hey, Boss". DiNozzo turned his head as Gibbs came up beside him. They stood side by side, looking out over the neighbourhood. Heat lightning flickered in the distance, presaging storms.

Eventually, Gibbs broke the silence, his tone carefully neutral. "Can't sleep?"

DiNozzo shook his head. "Some day, when the burn wears off". It had better be soon, by the look of him.

"Want a spray?"

DiNozzo shot him a grin and shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks". He hated the indignity of being sprayed naked, but he had to admit it beat twisting to do it himself.

_Hell, Ducky_, _what do I do now? _Gibbs felt a prickle of irritation. God knows, he wasn't good at this stuff. Why couldn't his old friend leave well enough alone?

He bit the bullet. "Scared of nightmares?" Even to his own ears, it sounded insulting. DiNozzo wasn't a kid. Gibbs waited for his protest.

But DiNozzo surprised him. Turning to face Gibbs, he shook his head. "Not this time, boss, I don't know why. Being buried alive – even just for a few minutes - ought to do that to a guy, don't you think?"

Gibbs nodded. "You'd think".

DiNozzo turned back to the railing. Gibbs had the feeling he wanted to say something but didn't know how to start.

He waited. Then, when the silence lengthened, he said, "Just spit it out, DiNozzo". _That direct enough for you, Duck?_

DiNozzo looked at him and for a moment Gibbs thought he'd laugh it off. But eventually, he said, "I think it's because I know he's dead this time. He's not still out there somewhere, waiting. I owe you bigtime for that, boss." His hands, clasped together on the railing, tightened.

Their eyes met. Gibbs shrugged, and the corners of his mouth quirked in what might have been the beginnings of a smile. _That makes us even then, DiNozzo._

"Before the trial, I was scared, you know? Shit scared that he'd come back somehow and try it again, even though I knew he was in jail". He'd never shown it at work. Only the dark circles around his eyes had told how bad the nights could be.

DiNozzo wasn't a man to show fear, no matter how tightly his gut was clenched. He prided himself on his macho image, though he never said so. It was one of the things Gibbs respected about him. He complained a lot when he was mildly hurt, ramping it up sometimes until Gibbs itched to whack him, but under pressure he stayed cool. Gibbs always knew he could count on DiNozzo there beside him, watching his six.

Yet after Spurling DiNozzo hadn't been able to ignore the fear.

Sensing the other man's conflict, Gibbs said quietly, "There's no shame in fear, DiNozzo, no shame at all. D'you think I don't understand that? We all feel it. Wouldn't be doing our job right if we didn't".

DiNozzo changed feet on the railing. "Yeah, I know that, boss, but I … kind of let it take me over. It was always there at the back of my mind, no matter what I was doing, and then at night … you know this job, Jethro, I can't let it get to me". He'd never called Gibbs Jethro before, and it spoke to the depths of his feeling.

Gibbs felt himself respond. "You're not on the job now, Tony, you're right here, safe … with me. And you haven't felt anything I haven't felt myself. When you're thinking with the brain in your head instead of the one in your pants, you're a good agent, one of the best I've worked with. Admitting to fear doesn't change that".

DiNozzo let the comment about his brain pass unchallenged. He gave Gibbs a long look, an unusually open and honest look, then turned his attention to the lightning again. After a while he sighed and said quietly, "Thanks, Boss".

They stood against the railing a few minutes more, watching the approaching storm. Then Gibbs asked, "You going to stand here all night, DiNozzo?'

"Not much choice, Boss".

"Oh, I don't know", Gibbs said. He stepped inside and came back with a spray can.

"Oh, for …! You know, Gibbs", DiNozzo said tiredly, "Kate's right. You can be a real bastard sometimes".

"Well, hell, DiNozzo", Gibbs grinned, "You only just finding that out now?"


End file.
